Everything's alright
by HarrySirius
Summary: Sam just can't understand, why Dean wouldn't come hunting with him again. And Dean tries to cope with the fact that Sam is back from the cage and hadn't even bothered to tell him. So for both of them, nothing was alright.


**Could be seen as a kind of sequel to my other story 'all that mattered". But it can be read on its own. Supernatural and the wonderful brothers Winchesters belong to Eric Kripke and the gang. I hope you enjoy reading this - it took me quite some strength to finish it. My second attempt at Supernatural. IF you like, please let me know :)**

Everything's….alright

Dawn was still hours ahead as a black car sped across the interstate, leaving a trace of dust behind. Sam didn't even know why he drove that way, not heading towards any particular destination. He just felt like driving. The past two days had been a lot for him, even if he couldn't admit that to himself.

All of a sudden the engine died and Sam cursed loudly and so unlikely for the gentle person he once had been. With its last strength his car let itself get pulled onto the right shoulder of the road, dying down completely. In the past twelve months something like that had never happened to him. He had never run out of fuel because Sam had just always been prepared for anything in any case.

He hadn't just been prepared for _this._

"_I'm not coming with you."_

His brother's words still echoed through his mind, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. He let his head rest on the wheel of his car – the very first he actually ever owned, and a heavy sigh escaped his lips, showing too much emotion and not enough.

Sam wasn't stupid. He had been prepared for something. But just not – this. Yes, maybe he was selfish. Or maybe he had overestimated Dean's need to be with him again. Whatever the cause, it actually made no difference. Dean wouldn't be joining him – not now, and maybe even never again.

It hurt like hell.

Maybe he had been too naïve, thinking that once Dean got over the shock of his brother practically being alive the whole time, he would gladly rejoin him in the hunt. It had always been like this. There was no Sam without Dean. No Dean without Sam. In the end they were always in this together. Sam had left for Stanford, but eventually, Dean had got him back on the road with him again. Dean had died, and even death could not keep him from Sam, twice.

But now it all seemed different. Yes, Sam had wanted his brother to have a normal life. He had made Dean promise. But if he was honest to himself, now that he had been rejected, he had only made him promise because he had thought that he would never walk this earth again.

"You are a selfish bastard…" Sam silently cursed himself. He wanted his brother happy. But he _wanted_ his brother, too. Right by his side.

The sudden ringing of his mobile made Sam jump in his seat and he clumsily fumbled with it, trying to get it out of his pocket. As his eyes fell onto the display, his heart dropped a few inches, a tight knot forming in his stomach. With a shaking hand he pressed the cell onto his ear, deeply breathing in, before answering.

"Dean?"

The instant Sam had left the world seemed to crash down on him. His eyes were watering and suddenly there was just too much noise everywhere. There were so many emotions running wild in him that made Dean clutch tightly at his chest, trying to breathe some air. But it just seemed that there wasn't enough air to breathe, even less than the past twelve months.

He didn't know how he had gotten into the house. Suddenly he was just sitting in the guestroom, a bottle of whiskey in his hand and the hot substance already filling his body. Sam was alive. His brother, his Sammy…was alive. Had been for the past year – and he hadn't even bothered to tell him. On by one the tears silently rolled down his burning cheeks, not even able to show all the pain he was feeling. He should be happy about it, celebrating, embracing the world or something cheesy like that, but Dean couldn't even bring himself to smile. Sam had been alive and he hadn't told him. So instead of joining his one reason of living, of actually walking this earth from the moment his younger brother had been born, Dean just sat there for hours, drinking whiskey and drowning in misery.

At one point his eyes had burned so much from too many tears and Dean had nearly choked on the crushing sobs that escaped his throat. He didn't even know that he actually _could_ cry like this. It was beyond reason, he knew that, because why should it shatter him, that his little brother was alive after all? But it did – more than Dean could cope with.

As the hour turned two, the bottle of whiskey lay on the floor, already empty for hours, and Dean's head lay heavy on his hands. Over and over only two scenes were playing in front of his closed eyes: Sam falling into Lucifer's cage, taking away every inch of happiness and Sam telling him, that he was alive but hadn't wanted to tell him. Because he'd wanted him to live a happy life.

"Screw you, Sam!" Dean shouted into the darkness, not caring whom he was going to wake. "Screw you,…"

His scream turned into a broken whisper and trembling hands finally reached for his cell phone. Before he could think, Dean had dialed Sam's number. And as he heard his brother's voice answering, he once more wasn't able to comprehend that Sam was really back.

Sam was greeted by silence only to be interrupted by a shallow noise of breathing.

"Dean? You there?" he asked carefully, trying to keep the dread out of his voice. A dread he didn't even understand where it came from. All of a sudden, his heart clenched as it yearned for Dean's presence, as he yearned to hear his brother's voice that was once more denied him by a heavy silence. He knew that Dean was there but his older brother still did not speak.

"Dean I know it's you. So please say something." He pushed further, speaking softly, unsure.

Another moment of silence passed and Sam briefly wondered if he should hang up. But that thought was crushed as Dean's voice finally came to talking, sounding much too broken, nearly impossible to recognize.

"Why?"

Just a single word that held so much meaning. So much, it nearly crushed Sam, but he was too stubborn to admit that. He knew perfectly well what his brother meant but he just didn't _want_ to.

"What do you mean 'why'?" he asked, sounding more desperate than intended. He didn't want to have that conversation with Dean, knowing his brother would never accept his explanation. He hadn't before and he wouldn't now. So why bother?

"You know perfectly well what I mean…" Dean answered softly, too soft for Sam's liking. So soft, that Sam knew that something more was coming.

"You see, I thought it over, Sam. Over and over and _over_. But I still don't get it. I just don't! So tell me… what could make you possibly think that my life would be better, if I thought you dead?"

'Still too soft, that voice', Sam thought, not wanting to hear the broken soul displaying in his brother's timbre. He knew that he had hurt Dean by not telling him – or more precisely by showing up after a year and then telling him that he didn't tell him. But his intentions had been the best. He really had wanted his brother to live a normal life. But Dean just didn't want to accept that. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he pondered whether to tell his brother again or simply let it be.

"Look Dean… I already told you…"

"Don't you dare pulling that crap on me again!" Dean barked, all softness forgotten. Yes, that was the Dean he remembered. The Dean he could handle. Not the broken man he had briefly seen at their reunion. Anger was something Sam knew. Something familiar. Something he used to handle all his life.

"But it's all I have to offer, Dean." He answered slowly, resigned. "I wanted you to have the chance of living a normal life. A happy life. That's why I didn't tell you." It even sounded lame to him now, but of course this was another thing, Sam didn't want to acknowledge. After Dean had practically sacrificed everything for him, he had just wanted to give something back.

"Fuck you, Sam." Dean spat more defeated than angry now. Sam sighed inwardly not liking the direction they were heading. He didn't want to fight with his brother. Not over this. It had cost him a lot back then, not to walk up to Lisa's door and claim his brother. Again. Like a thousand times before. Yes it had cost him nearly all of his strength. But he'd just thought it to be the right thing. And he wouldn't back off now.

"Look Dean, I don't want us to fight over it. I explained and that's all there is to say. Like it or not, but there won't be another explanation. I really wanted you to have the life you wanted."

"I wanted my brother. I already told you." Words spoken even more softly than before and they hit their target full on. Sam had to run a shaking hand over his face to regain some composure. _Not this broken voice. Please not this voice_. If he admitted that Dean actually was broken, he had to admit he had done the wrong thing. And he wasn't ready to do so. No, Dean wasn't broken, Sam had not broken him. He was angry. And anger was something Sam understood. Hell, he would have been angry at Dean as well, if he had been in his shoes. Yes, Dean was just _angry._ As if Sam could believe it himself.

His cell gave a sudden rang, indicating that the battery would run out of service pretty soon. He silently cursed but then again, maybe it would be for the better if they stopped talking now.

"Look Dean, I'm sorry. But my cell's running out of battery… fuck…" How the hell was he going to get away from the interstate without his cell? He wouldn't be able to call Samuel as he had intended, so he could collect him. And he didn't know how far it was to the next gas station, so no chance of walking.

"Is this you tryin' to get me off your back?" Dean asked, clearly angry now, catching Sam off guard. And Sam just responded the way he used to, when Dean got all angry on him. He got bitchy. Once again that was familiar territory.

"Look Dean. I'm not in the mood right now to start the bitchy brother fight _you_ so desperately seem to seek. I'm in the middle of nowhere, I ran out of gas and now my cell will stop working at any second. I just don't need this right now!" He knew how mean that was. But with Dean it always worked the same way. He would get angry, Sam would turn bitchy and Dean would have him his way in the end. But not this time. His brother had turned silent again and now the rasped breathing was once more all Sam could hear. It tore at his heart that he was the source of Dean's suffering again. And he really wanted to apologize instantly, for just about everything, but the words just didn't want to leave his mouth. He still opened it but never got the chance to speak because Dean beat him to it.

"Any clue where you are?" he asked and Sam's eyebrows shot up quizzically. He hadn't expected this. Cursing, shouting, blaming – yes. But not this.

"Well about two hours ago, I just got into the car and started going west. Interstate that runs through your village. Don't even know the number." He sounded foolishly, even to himself, but had bluntly spoken the truth, clearly stunned by the unexpected question.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming for you."

The words were spoken in a simple manner, without the former grief and anger and that just did it. Sam had to take in a shaky breath as he tried to hold himself together. There he was. His older brother. Just like always coming to rescue little Sammy. All in him screamed just to tell Dean no, to tell him that he could handle it on his own. Especially since he had hurt him so much, so much it had left his brother broken. He really wanted to. But when his voice came out, it was barely a whisper.

"Okay… thanks Dean…"

Silence was all the response he received, followed by a dull clicking noise that told him that his brother had hung up.

Dean cursed himself for once more leaving everything behind for Sam as he was rushing the van along the interstate. He had a responsibility back at home with his new family – a family his brother had practically forced on him. He was still somehow drunk, he was driving too fast but his mind seemed to stop working when it came to his little brother. He briefly wondered how he had been able to tell Sam that he wouldn't be coming with him but that had probably been the hurt for not knowing. For being the _only one_ not knowing.

The first thing he had done when coming back from hell was calling his brother. And when he couldn't get a hold on him he had tried Bobby. But just because he had wanted to know where Sam was. Everything in him had wanted to be with his brother – but his brother obviously didn't feel the same way. Dean knew that he had always needed his family, Sam, more than the other way around. But that Sam wouldn't need him _at all_ had crushed him. His death had left him broken, but this? He couldn't even try to comprehend it all.

Was it, because he hadn't been able to save him? That in the end Dean had failed on the job he had done his whole life: protecting Sam? Another wave of pain, mixed with guilt, shot through him and he had to put all effort into keeping the wheel steady. Probably that had been the reason. And Dean couldn't even blame his brother if he really felt that way.

Dean had punished himself over the year for it – him and Lisa along with it. Even if the woman never really blamed him, he knew that he was giving her not what she deserved and what she silently wished for. Another life he dragged into darkness. But Dean didn't want to think about that right now. Sam was enough for a lifetime and if he would be starting to think about Lisa right now he could as well just drive the car up against the next tree. No, hating himself because of her was scheduled for another time.

The first rays of sunlight were showing as Dean finally saw a broken down car on the right shoulder. His heart skipped a beat and betrayed him by feeling a strange kind of joy. Sammy was in that car – his little brother – unharmed, _alive._

With what seemed his last strength, Dean pulled his car up behind the black one and switched the engine off. His hands trembled and his legs felt like jelly as he finally managed to get out. Sam had already gotten out of his car and stood there leaning casually against it, hands in his pockets and obviously not able to look at his brother.

Dean took a deep breath, before he carefully stepped closer and held out the fuel-filled canister.

"I think you need this…" he said, his voice strained and too much emotion betraying him.

When Sam had noticed the van in the rearview mirror his heart had dropped some inches but at the same time his whole body was filled with a strange kind of warmth he hadn't felt in ages. It seemed to him that everything that had happened to him in the past five years simply vanished into oblivion and the only thing that remained was the admiration for his older brother. He was transferred back to a time where Dean had been his whole life, had been the one to know all the answers and to make everything alright.

How much he wished that this could still be. He would have given everything just to be able to be the kid brother again. But of course the blissful oblivion only lasted mere seconds and as Dean pulled his van onto the shoulder, Sam switched back to the present, hardened his face and got out of the car. Yet still he wasn't able to face the older one as Dean silently approached him and handed him the canister. He took it without so much as glancing at him and mumbled a muffled 'thank you' before getting his tank refilled.

And all this time he felt Dean's eyes burning into him, probably awaiting some sort of reaction he wasn't able to perform. The unbearable silence stretched until all of a sudden a loud bang caught him of guard and made him let the almost empty canister slip out of his hand.

"Thank you? Is that all you got to say to me?" Dean's voice roared through the silence, finally forcing Sam to turn around and fully face his brother. And what he saw made his heart clench tightly. The broken man he didn't want to acknowledge while talking to him on the phone now stood right in front of him, bearing the hurt and pain of the whole world in his eyes. At that moment, Sam had really wanted to back down, to _break_ down and ask his brother for forgiveness. He thought of the misery he had caused him and still _did_ and all in him just wanted to get to him, grab him and never let go again. It was a whirlwind of emotion that nearly crushed him. But in the end all he had to respond was a simple "Yes. That's all I've got to say."

His hand still throbbed as he let it slip off the roof of his van, staring at Sam in disbelief. He had expected anything, but not this kind of … indifference. Where was the Sam he had known all his life? Was he still there? Or had Dean himself been too careless, had missed when his brother had changed – or was it because his own brother had never given him the chance to see him grow into a man he didn't know anymore. Could twelve months really do that to a person?

"I'm sorry if you'd expected something… _more._"

The words finally snapped him out of his trance and his anger started flaring up again. His eyes blazed in fury and he took some firm steps towards his brother, grabbing his collar and yanking him onto the car.

"You little bastard! Do you care so little about me?" Dean hissed, hating himself for losing it but not being able to stop it. "I thought you dead for a year and there is _nothing _you gotta say to me? I just came driving 200 miles for you and you got nothing to say?" His hands trembled on Sam's jacket and slipped a bit to rest a little too forceful on his brother's chest.

"I didn't ask you to come…" Sam whispered and Dean's face transformed form anger to hurt and then to fury. "W…WHAT?" he roared, his voice breaking at the end. He had thought it couldn't get any worse between them. But apparently he had been wrong.

"You were the one who told me to stay where I was. Look Dean…" Sam started, while forcing Dean's hand much too gently off his chest. "…that's exactly why I couldn't tell you. You would have left the instant I showed myself, denying yourself the life you deserved to have - because of me. You've always done this. Denying yourself something you wanted because of me. And by not telling you I was alive again, I felt like I was finally….paying you back…" Sam's words sounded sincere to Dean but still so wrong that all he could do was chuckle softly in a slightly insane way.

"I tell you a funny thing Sam." He started, turning away and running a shaky hand over his face. "I think I really got the life I deserved. It was…simply _splendid_! I woke up every night, screaming your name, after dreaming of you fallin' into that cage. And when the morning came the first thing I did, was to take a deep gulp of my best buddy Johnny Walker. Way to start a day, tell ya. And then I would go on and trying to find a way to get you back…"

"I told you not to do that.." Sam gently interrupted but Dean wouldn't have had any of that.

"Shut it Sam!" he barked, turning around again, eyes blazing. "I tried EVERYTHING, but guess what? Nothing worked. I even went to a crossroad, calling a demon so I could make another deal. But another guess? Yeah! It didn't work! And know what? After I laid my soul out once again the demon just told me 'sorry can't do' and then started laughing. So hard the fucking son of a bitch actually cried! Back then I couldn't understand! But now I get it! Even that FUCKING SHIT knew, you were alive! A fucking demon knew it but not me! A fucking demon…." His voice broke again and he cast his eyes down in defeat. "So yes… you were paying me back…big time…" _Paying me back for letting you die…_

His mask of indifference crumbled bit by bit as Dean's words sunk in. All this time Sam had believed that Dean had been somehow…happy. In his unbelievable ignorance he had really believed. Sure, he knew that Dean would grieve for him. That he suffered. He had known and it had killed him. But he had seen something else, too, and he had wanted to believe so desperately, that he actually had begun to. He had watched his brother laughing with Ben, kissing Lisa, talking to the neighbors and even working at the concrete. And Dean had seemed…good. But now Sam could do nothing more than to curse himself. Of course his brother had seemed alright. Because that was just the way he worked. And Sam should have known that all Dean knew was to bury his pain as deep as possible inside him, but that he would never be able to actually get over it.

"After all, I let you die…"

The whispered words were the last drop and Sam's walls broke down. That was the last thing he'd expected to hear but the first thing he _had to_ have expected. Because that was just … Dean. Even in death his life only revolved around his little brother and everything bad that happened to Sam just had to be his fault. Because that was his job. That was who he was. Protecting Sam until he was no more. Hadn't those been his words just before the end?

Sam's knees started to shake and he tried desperately to regain his composure, to build the walls back up so his brother wouldn't see that they had crumbled. But his heart ached for Dean and there was that feeling of the past again, the one that allowed him to be the younger brother and that made him believe that Dean would make everything alright. But this time it was his turn. This time the little brother had to make it all good again.

"I…. I'm sorry Dean…." Sam finally whispered and his eyes burned with unshed tears. "I…really screwed up…"

Dean had cursed himself for giving his most vibrant fear voice. For telling Sam what his brother already knew. For showing weakness again. But it had always been like this. Sam had always been his weak spot. And that moment was no difference. He prepared himself for another rejection, for another display of the stranger 'Sam' that his brother had grown into. But instead he was confronted with the most heart-wrenching and at the same time most beautiful words he could remember hearing.

Careful steps were taken and every inch brought Dean closer to Sam. Green eyes met tear-filled ones, telling it all and nothing. A shaking hand reached up to touch the smooth cheek and the other one followed cupping the other. Dean gripped Sam's face maybe a little too tightly, letting his hands wander so they could linger between cheek and neck. His eyes turned into a kind of softness that was reserved only for his little brother and a broken smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"Sammy…It is you…" he whispered, feeling like he was seeing Sam for the first time. Then his hands slipped down, grabbing a fistful of the back of his brother's jacket, pulling close, as close as he could get.

"You're back so… everything's alright."

~the end~

**Like I said, it really took something from me to finish this. When I had written my other story, Season 6 hadn't started just yet. And I had a fic like that planned after finishing "all that mattered". But after watching 'Exile on Mainstreet" my original ideas didn't fit anymore. I tried my best to get them to be cannon, especially Sam, since he's changed more than Dean. But I still believe, that the old Sammy is there hidden inside him, so I wrote it like that. Because for me, Supernatural ist about the love the two brothers share.( Be it bromance or actual romance - whatever flows your boat.) And I believe that we will see that love again. I need to believe :) **

**Hope you enjoyed. Yours HS  
**


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